


Derek doesn't like her smoking

by transfemmefatale



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Kissing, Mild Language, One Shot, Smoking, Summer, Trans Stiles Stilinski, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 14:47:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6758443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transfemmefatale/pseuds/transfemmefatale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek and Stel sitting on the porch arguing over her smoking habit. Trans Stiles=Stel AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Derek doesn't like her smoking

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or any of it's characters which are the property of Jeff Davis, and are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain to be made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.
> 
> I'm really enjoying writing one shots about these two. I hope to do a chaptered fic about them in this AU eventually, but only time will tell. Thank you for reading!
> 
> P.S. I didn't want this fic to feel like a PSA or as something that romanticised the act of smoking, but just in case I failed on either account just remember that there are an endless number of healthy and effective coping mechanisms for stress that trump smoking in every way. Sermon over. Happy reading!

Stel sits on the bottom porch step puffing a cigarette and watching the night bloom in front of her eyes. The song of the cicadas, crickets, and breeze as it whistles through the trees setting her frayed nerves at ease. She'd spent most of the day vigorously cleaning the house and digging holes along either side of the front yard where soon there would be hydrangeas, tulips, bunny ears, and whatever else she would find at the greenhouse tomorrow.

 _Tomorrow already,_ she thinks and takes another pull from her cigarette, but the nicotine isn't enough to stop her stomach from tightening at the thought. The thought of going into the city, the thought of middle aged cis women and their cis kids and cis husbands looking at her all weird, wondering what her deal was taking up _their_ space and making _them_ uncomfortable. Derek always asked her why she didn't go out more, _I like it here better,_ she'd tell him, and he'd just sigh and she'd feel her hands sweat and wish she wasn't already running out of anxiety pills from her monthly prescription or else she'd take another one.

But tomorrow she'd go to the greenhouse, Derek insisted after all.

 _I'll come with you, and I won't let anything bad happen._ He had said and while it was better than going alone, it wasn't enough to keep her from agonizing over every tiny little thing that could go wrong. Stel has always been the best at that.

The thump of Derek's big feet zipping down the stairs echoes in her ears. Instantly she dabs her cigarette butt into the ground and throws some leaves over it. The front door swings open and she puts her hands on her legs, hoping to appear normal, a young woman just casually sitting, thinking, and watching. Not smoking.

“Wanna see what I found in the attic?” Derek asks, his voice light and eager.

“What? Uh yeah, what'd you find?” Stel spits out, sighing because when ever she tries to seem calm it just makes her more visibly on edge.

Derek stops and sniffs, she can't hear him sniff, but she knows he's doing it. Then he's sitting next to her with a couple of bent pictures. Stel doesn't look at them at first, trying to scope out what Derek's feeling, but his eyes are still and his cute grin suggests he either doesn't notice the smoke or doesn't care. Stel knows there's a third possibility much more likely to be true.

“It's you and me and Scott. Remember this day?” Derek asks, placing the pictures on her lap. The first one is just Scott and Derek, taken by Stel, they sit under a tree Scott holding a football like he's about to throw it at Derek's head, and Derek completely oblivious trying to pierce the camera with the most put on straight faced expression he can muster, a grin just waiting to bubble up.

“I do. God, how was that so long ago already.” She says still looking at it, holding it tight, not ready to look at the pictures behind it. The pictures taken of her.

“Let's see,” Derek rubs the bottom of his chin, “You're twenty now, and back then you were-”

“Sixteen.” Stel says, her voice hard and low, the only way she can keep it from wavering.

“Four years.” Derek takes his hand, and rubs it across her shoulders, letting his arm rest around her like a warm muscly neck pillow. Stel shivers, not from the cool of the night, rather the way his touch makes her whole body tingle. Derek kisses her on the cheek. “Don't you wanna look at the rest of them?”

“Later. But right now, I don't wanna think about anything other than you, right here, with me.” Stel pulls Derek's other arm around her neck and goes in for a big, wet kiss. She loves the way his stubble feels against her lips, his thick tongue soft and warm against hers, melding and moving in together with ease. Derek pulls away, taking in a deep breath.

“You taste like tobacco.” He states plainly, eyebrows arched at her.

“Don't worry, you can't get cancer from kissing a nasty smoker lady.”

Derek shrugs, “It's you I'm worried about.”

“Trust me, smoking is the least of my concerns, but I have a therapist for that.”

“Why do you do it?”

Stel laughs, rubbing her arms over and over. “Why do you leave sprinkles of piss on the toilet for me to clean up literally EVERY DAY?”

Derek gnashes his teeth together, “Sorry about that. I'll get better. But doing that won't kill me.”

“Don't be so sure wolf man, I can be pretty resourceful when I put my mind to something.”

Derek just looks at her, waiting for a real answer. Stel groans.

“Ugh, why do we have to talk about this. You know I'm still young and supple, it's going to take a long ass time for me to get lung cancer.”

“You never know, but that's not the point. You do whatever you want, I want you to be okay, but I'm not the boss of you.”

“Exactly, you aren't.”

“I just wanna know why.”

Stel shakes her head. “I honestly don't know. It's just... a coping mechanism I guess and it's not even that helpful, but quitting would just make things worse than they already are. And yeah I do like it, it feels good sometimes, not most of the time, but feeling good is difficult for me.”

“Do you feel good with me?”

Stel smiles at Derek, running her hands through his thick black hair. “I feel great with you baby. Especially when you're not drilling me with questions about my unhealthy coping habits!” She says giving his head a few light scratches and letting go.

“I just want you to be okay.”

“I'll be okay,” Stel says softly rifling through her pockets and pulling out a carton of Ultra Lights. She shakes it hearing only the sound of loose tobacco leaves tumbling against the carton. “Shit, I'm out. Want to drive to the gas station with me?”

“I don't want to encourage it.”

“Listen it's bad, I know, but I'm gonna go anyways. So are you coming with me or are you just gonna stay here and brood over old pictures from better times?”

Derek pulls Stel close to him, arm around her waist, kissing her on the head. “Nothing will ever be as good as being here with you now. Nothing.” He tells her, breath hot in her ear.

“Me too Dere Bear, me too.” She says patting him on the knee.

Stel jumps up and stretches her arms, Derek scouting a view of her ass in her favorite pair of purple shorts, “You're welcome, also I call shotgun bitch!” She yells, skipping over to the car.

“I call shotgun next time!” Derek yells running after her.

The drive to the gas station takes a little over fifteen minutes, because it's the closest one with the right brand, but the drive isn't too lengthy for either of them as long as they're by each others side.

When they get home they lie in the grass, snuggled close together, and they listen to the peaceful sounds of the night.

They just listen.


End file.
